


Catch and Release

by Space_Cadet_Blues



Series: Blood and Stone [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Is a Brat, First Meetings, Fluff and Smut, Hank Anderson Is a Sweetheart, M/M, Mage Connor, Mutual Masturbation, Porn with Feelings, werewolf Hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22001827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Cadet_Blues/pseuds/Space_Cadet_Blues
Summary: Connor has found himself in quite the predicament. It's a good thing his cellmate is the helpful and handsome sort.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Blood and Stone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582276
Comments: 12
Kudos: 162





	Catch and Release

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: There is some mild sexual threat but not really as Connor has the situation under control. 
> 
> Though no assault actually happens the language used is still unpleasant and potentially triggering so please take care.

The City of Hirane is famous for its production of the finest wines in Forladriand.

It's also known for its loathing and persecution of witches so in hindsight Connor _really_ should have known better.

He tries to wriggle his slim wrists out of the cuffs that bind them together. The inscriptions on the iron glow blue and the sudden intense burning that follows soon makes him stop. They're designed by witches to hold witches, there's no wriggling out of these particular cuffs.

Just when he thinks things can't get much worse, a rat the size of a small dog wriggles its way through the bars and into his cell, setting upon his lunch so generously provided by his captors: mouldy bread sitting in gelatinous broth.

"Fantastic," Connor huffs.

Not that he had any intention of eating it anyway. He doesn't plan on spending much longer in this grim place. He just needs to figure out a way to escape.

The heavy iron door to the cell block opens with a bang and in marches four guards escorting a silver haired man, larger than life itself.

"Put him in with the witch. If he turns it'll provide some entertainment," The head guard instructs.

The rest of the guards laugh and grunt in agreement and Connor watches as they bring the large man over to his cell. 

The rat squeaks and skitters away across the damp stone floor.

Unceremoniously they shove the man inside and lock the door behind him.

The head guard peers in at them with the interest of a child putting two insects in the same box to see if they will tear each other apart. 

Connor cocks an eyebrow at the large man and then at the guard.

The guard huffs in disappointment and then gives Connor an assessing look which turns Connor's insides cold.

"Here little witch, maybe if you come with me, do me a... Favour," the horrid man wets his lips and it takes everything Connor has not to recoil in disgust, "and I might just let you go. Or at least, give you a cell of your own to enjoy in your final hours."

Connor's eyes narrow. "I'm afraid I must respectfully decline, but thank you all the same."

The guard looks put out but then his mouth twists into a nasty grin. "Fine. Enjoy your time with this brute. I at least would have been all gentle like."

And then the guards are gone, their awful laughter and chatter growing distant.  
Connor peers up from where he sits on the rotting bench against the wall. The large man is glaring at the door. 

"If looks could kill," Connor says.

The man grunts then sits on the other end of the bench. "If only," he says, and Connor's mouth goes dry. 

That voice, low and deep. Madly he thinks he wants to hear more of it.

"You always attract the attention of gentlemen like that?" The man asks, turning his head to look at Connor through silver hair. His eyes are blue, like ice Connor thinks. They're lovely.

"All the time," he answers.

"We should think about getting you out of here then before you attract more trouble. But you're a witch right? How come you haven't..." The man wiggles his fingers a little at the bars.

Connor smiles and raises his bound wrists. "Enchanted with an incendiary spell. If I take the cuffs off, poof. More painful than the fire they'll burn me with in the town square. I need a key." 

"Let me guess. That guard who gave you the once over has it?"

"Indeed." 

"Damn."

"Hm. I do have a plan though."

"Yeah?"

"Are you any good at method acting?"

The man's face screws up a little in thought. It's an endearing expression. "Like stage play stuff? Well I'll try anything if it means a way out." 

"Good. I need you to put your hands on me." Connor stands and moves close to him observing that his hands are not as tightly bound. "Rip my sleeve, either one."

"You sure? That tunic looks expensive."

"Well, if I stay down here then I won't be able to enjoy it for much longer."

The man bunches the material at his shoulder in one large hand he pauses before yanking, tearing the arm almost fully off. 

Connor closes his eyes and grimaces at the sound. It was one of his favourites too.

When he opens his eyes he catches a peculiar look on the man's face, a flash of gold in his eyes. 

If he turns it'll provide some entertainment.  
So that's what the guard had meant. A werewolf. And the full moon is in two days.  
Connor shivers at the implication that he was to be imprisoned down here for days, and also at the prospect that he could become an easy meal. 

But there's something else that makes him shiver too.

Connor can't use his magic freely or he'll set off the cuffs. But he can glean enough information just from observation. This man might not be fully himself. But his eyes are gentle despite a hint of primal interest. 

Connor considers harnessing that primal interest for himself.

But that's a thought for later.

"What's your name sir?" Connor asks.

"Hank, Hank of Ironfort." 

"Pleasure to meet you Hank. I'm Connor of Embershade. Now, could you please, slap me across the face and pull my hair."

"What?" Hank asks, looking at Connor as though he has gone completely mad. "I thought we were acting."

"It has to be convincing. I just need you to rough me up a little bit. It's alright. I'm a lot tougher than I look."

Hank stands up and Connor takes a step back, really taking in his size for the first time. 

"... Are you sure?" Hank asks.

Connor swallows, glancing at Hank's large hands before meeting his eyes. "Positive." He closes his eyes. "Do it." 

Hank strikes him across the cheek and pain erupts sharply under his skin which warms quickly, flushing red. Connor shivers again. 

"You okay?" Hank asks.

"Yes. Hair please, you can be a little more gentle, if you like."

Connor meets his eyes and Hank snorts softly. "You getting off on this?"

"Only if you are Hank of Ironfort. Now, pull my hair, there's a good- _ah_!"

Hank grabs a fistful of Connor's hair and holds him. Connor's mouth opens then closes again and heat pools somewhere low in his belly. 

"... I can't believe you're flirting at a time like this," Hank says, voice a touch more gravelly.

Connor grins. "Are you not?"

Hank lets him go, rubbing his fingers soothingly against his scalp before stepping away. 

"You're crazy."

"Perhaps." 

They both start at the sound of a door down the hall banging open.

"I need you to act like the brute that they think you are. As unfortunate as that is. Once I am out of the cell and have the guard distracted, take the ring of keys he wears on his belt."

Hank nods. "What exactly are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make that pig think that he owns me. And then I'm going to enjoy proving him wrong."

When the cell block door opens once again the guard returns to Connor gripping the filthy bars, standing as far away from Hank as possible. 

"Guard, _Guard_! You can't leave me in here with him, he's like a wild _animal_ I beg you, put me in my own cell!"

Hank sits on the bench, observing Connor with hungry eyes. The guard takes in Connor's dishevelled appearance and grins. Buying it completely. 

"Not so smug now are you _princess_? Perhaps you've reconsidered my offer."

"Yes, yes I'll... I'll do whatever you want. Just please, get me out of here!" 

The guard moves to the door, unsheathing a silver dagger. "Don't you move big fella. Or I'll castrate you quicker than you can say burnt witch."

Hank only watches. 

The guard opens the cell and Connor goes to him, allowing himself to be yanked roughly out. Once the door is locked and the keyring back on the guards belt, Connor pushes him gently against the bars feigning gratitude.

"Thank you, oh gods, thank you!" 

The guard grabs his jaw, keeping the dagger in the other hand. He checks that Hank hasn't moved before looking back at his prize.

"It's unfair for something such as you to hold such beauty. Now, on your knees."

His grip loosens and slowly Connor sinks to his knees on the filthy floor. He reaches between the guards legs to grip the bars behind him and peers up at him, eyes wide.

"You know what to do, get on with it."

There's a click, and a clatter as the irons fall from Connor's wrists and his mouth widens in a feral grin, eyes glowing a violent shade of purple. 

"Oh, I believe I do."

The guard chokes a startled gasp and brings the blade in his hand swinging downwards but Hank reaches through the bars and yanks his shoulder, throwing him off. Connor raises a hand and the guard's arm twists in ways arms should not twist, the dagger falling from his grip and clattering to the floor.

The guard screams and Connor rises to his feet slowly, he gets inside the man's head, making himself appear as a demon with a mouth too wide and full of sharp teeth, eyes blood red, narrowed into fiery slits, skin grey and split in places.

"Do you still think I'm beautiful?" He coos. 

The guard continues to scream in utter terror until his eyes roll back into his head and he topples to the floor unconscious. 

Connor huffs and attempts to fix his hair. "Well that was rather boring."

Hank opens the door to the cell peering at the unconscious man. 

"Well then. Shall we?" Connor asks, gesturing to another door that leads below the dungeon. 

Hank pauses listening to the sound of approaching footfall.

"There are two of them, we should take care of them or they'll follow." 

Connor pouts. "Alright."

Hank hides in the shadows behind the door and Connor takes an apple from a nearby table, moving to lean on a barrel just as two guards burst into the room. 

"Hello boys," he says cheerfully, biting into the apple.

The guards charge forward and Hank is quick to step behind them. Brutishly he crashes their heads together knocking them out. 

Connor looks at him for a moment, eyes twinkling and lips crooked into a smile. 

"Let's go."

***

They take a sword and dagger each from the room and fetch their confiscated belongings from a trunk in the corner. 

Connor takes all the stored treats he can find and loads them into his satchel before they head down into the sewers.

Hank leads the way and Connor suspects it's because he can scent the direction of the harbour. 

"Do you think there could be anything down here?" Connor asks, peering into the dark corners, ignoring the fact that his plush boots are being further ruined by human waste.

"Grindylows probably. Nothing much bigger than that... I hope." 

"Scary stuff."

"I think that depends on how you look at it. No more scary than humans."

"True... You talk as if you yourself are not human Hank."

Hank flushes and Connor watches him curiously, wondering if he'll crack and admit to what he is. 

"I just... Don't have a lot of faith in humanity."

Connor feels a little heartache at the hurt look in Hank's eyes. "You and me both," he says softly.

They reach the harbour when the sun dips below the horizon and sneak back into the city so that Hank can retrieve his horse. 

Connor bewitches a few men loading cargo onto a ship and they stow away with no further opposition.

Once on dry land they stop off in an Inn at the seaside town of Bellcliff a little further along the coast. 

Connor bewitches the young lady at the bar to keep her from picking up on the fact that they are covered from head to toe in grime and are pretty much penniless and they head up to their room.

"A single room?" Hank asks, eyebrow cocked. 

"It would be silly of us to separate now with men from the kingdom's capital out for our blood and barely a coin in our pockets. Why? Do you have any objections on sharing a room?" Connor asks with a small grin.

"... None," says Hank after searching his eyes, offering a small grin of his own. 

Connor opens the door revealing a plush double bed with a copper bath at its foot. 

"Oh dear, there's only one bed." 

"Mhm," hums Hank, watching him with amusement.

"I think you'd better make use of that bath Hank. Can’t be sharing a bed with someone covered in shit."

Hank barks a laugh. "Likewise."

"Perhaps we aught to share that too. Saves water."

"Perhaps you're right."

***

Connor disrobes first, enjoying the feel of Hank's eyes on him as he fills and heats the bath with magic. 

Hank is a little more reserved despite the sense of slight desperation that Connor continuously gets from his energy. He's all pent up but still trying to be a gentleman. Sweet. 

Once he gets the courage to drop his trousers Connor covers his mouth, flushing a deep red.

"What?" Hank asks defensively.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," Connor says, unable to tear his eyes away until Hank flushes and turns to remove his stained tunic. 

He's huge everywhere apparently. And Connor is left wondering about the logistics of sex while Hank climbs into the scented bath, his cock thick and heavy between his thighs. 

For the first time in his life Connor prays to gods he doesn't believe in to grant him the patience and endurance he will need to get Hank inside him.

Hank groans as he relaxes and Connor climbs in at the opposite end, enjoying the feel of the warm water lapping at his skin. 

Connor watches Hank rinse the filth from his body and is suddenly overcome with the urge to put his fingers through his hair which falls just past his ears.

"Hank."

"Mm?"

"May I touch you?"

Hank smiles, eyes half lidded and expression relaxed. "Of course."

Connor moves forward and kneels between Hank's powerful spread thighs. He magics soap from a nearby bottle into his hand and gently begins to massage it into Hank's hair.

"Ironfort is located far in the North is it not?"

"It is."

"Where snow covers the ground most of the year... I've never seen snow."

"You're not missing much. S'too cold sometimes."

Connor's soapy fingers rub curiously behind Hank's ears earning a low rumbling moan.   
Hank grins. "But keep doing shit like that and maybe I'll take you home with me."

Connor laughs. "A simple massage and you're offering to take me home with you? I assure you I'm far too wild to permanently warm anyone's bed. But taking a guess I think I could say the same about you."

"How'd you figure?" Hank asks and Connor notices the nervousness in his eyes. 

Connor takes his face in his hands and brushes his thumbs over his cheeks until his expression softens.

"A feeling," he whispers.

Hank leans forward and kisses him, and despite the pent up energy Connor can sense in him he's gentle, savouring the moment. A big hand cups the back of Connor's neck and Hank's beard tickles his skin.

His lips are surprisingly soft and when his tongue brushes Connor's bottom lip Connor melts against him, opening his mouth to him and moaning for it.

Hank kisses him deep and slow making Connor shake with the urge to go faster. Connor's fingers press to his chest, scratching through the wiry grey hair there before his arms loop about Hank's neck drawing them closer together.

Once Hank is done with his lips, leaving them kiss swollen and red, he mouths along Connor's jawline and down the column of his neck, dragging his tongue over his pulse point.

Connor thinks of those sharp canines near his jugular and bites his lip on a noise that would have been rather embarrassing had Hank coaxed it out of him.

"Connor."

"Mm?" Connor hums.

Hank brushes his lips against Connor's. "I'm going to dunk you."

"Oh, how romantic."

Hank laughs. "I want the first time we fuck to be in a bed. Not in a tub full of dirty water."

"Slightly more romantic."

"I want to see you grip those sheets when I sink into you," Hank rumbles against Connor's damp skin.

"Mm, now we're getting there." Connor glances at the sturdy looking bedframe and tilts his head. Fingers playing with strands of Hank's wet hair. "Do you think we could break it?"

"The bed? I think we can do anything we set our minds to. We make quite the team."

***

Once they have gently scrubbed each other clean (which turns out to be one of the most intimate things Connor has ever done with another person) they crawl into bed, touching, kissing and trying to carefully manoeuvre one another into some sort of position.

Connor rolls onto his back and Hank gets between his legs. When Connor's length slides up against Hank's thick shaft he groans softly. It's too good, feeling Hank's damp heated skin pressed against his own.

"Connor," Hank whispers and grinds down hard against him. 

Connor whimpers, wrapping his legs around Hank's hips as he gently touches his face.  
Hank turns to kiss his palm and rolls his hips again. Connor curses and waits for Hank to get some sort of pace going before pressing his hips up to meet him on each thrust, the friction is hard, hot and perfect, arousal simmering low in his belly.

It builds and builds and soon Connor is shaking and murmuring curses. His hands travel down the slope of Hank's broad back and he presses his palms to Hank's ass, urging him on.

"Hank, I'd really, really, _really_. Like to ride that big cock of yours," Connor states breathlessly, finding it very hard to focus.

Hank gives an amused hum. "Later. I want you like this."

"Tease."

"Yes."

"You're not supposed to admit it."

Connor pushes him up and back into a sitting position, climbing onto his lap to straddle him.

Hank reaches between them and takes them both in hand, stroking them in quick firm pulls. 

Connor trembles and clings to Hank's shoulder, the other hand curling into his damp hair.

Hank strokes a hand down Connor's back and dips his fingers between his cheeks. 

" _Oh_ ," Connor breathes, moaning as Hank's fingers rub and press at his hole, applying just enough pressure for it to feel good in combination with the hand on his cock. "You really are a tease."

"Had a feeling you'd like that," Hank says, pressing a gentle kiss to Connor's lips.

"Yes well, you'd be _ah_ ~ correct."

Hank's touch becomes more insistent and he strokes them with feverish intensity, moaning under his breath.

Connor is losing his mind, he doesn't know which way he wants his hips to go, he thrusts forward into Hank's slick, warm grip, pressed tight against that glorious throbbing monster Hank calls a cock and pushes back against Hank's thick probing fingers.

It's too much. Hank pushes the tip of one finger almost inside him and it's all over. He cries out, shaking as he falls apart in Hank's arms. Hank milks him for every last drop of his spend and follows soon after, using their combined slick to give them a few extra pulls.

Then he lets go and Connor feels as though he can breathe again. Hank tips him back onto the mattress and follows, pressing whiskery kisses to his neck and shoulder as they both lay pressed against each other, catching their breath.

"That was... " Connor frowns. Not really knowing how to describe it. Oddly intimate. He's not really felt that connected with anyone during sex before. 

A rumbling exhale catches his attention and he realises that Hank has fallen asleep.

"... Really?!"

***

Connor wakes in the morning to find the bed empty aside from himself and a note left on the pillow beside him. 

He huffs. 

"Let me guess 'I had a great time, have a nice life etc.'"

He snatches up the note and rolls onto his back, holding it above him to read it.

_I apologise for the abrupt departure but there is somewhere I need to be. But if you'd be interested in meeting again, I'll be at The Golden Stag Inn in the village of Potwin in 3 days time. I hope to see you there. Your partner in crime H_

Connor hugs the note to his chest, feeling heat bloom in his cheeks. Three days, that at least gives him time to find some new clothes. And maybe a horse. And he can admit to himself with the scent of Hank still lingering on the sheets, he really wouldn't mind seeing him again. 


End file.
